Letters to Tiger – from your buddies on tour

First, you get to frolic with 18 (or was it 20?) women over the last couple of years while still beating the crap out of us, winning all those majors I was supposed to win, and making me look like a jackass in front of everyone, and breaking my golf spirit so bad that I needed to see a shrink…I was number 2 in the world, dang it! And now, even that clown David Duval can probably beat me.

You are selfish because here we are, honest golfers trying to eke out a miserable living playing in a PGA tour that’s doing so bad this year, and the number of viewers is lower than the ones watching Landscape and Gardening Channel, and here you go, launching your nice little news conference smack in the middle of our tournament. You’re always looking to steal the limelight, even now! Isn’t it enough that you’ve stole so many of my majors from me already? EH??

Anyways, from my personal opinion, I think you should just stay away from the game until you really learn some humility. That means not smacking your ex-sponsors in their face by taking away the limelight from their biggest tournament. That means giving a proper news conference that has questions and answers. That means facing the music like a man, like those idiots at Toyota. Unfortunately, Tim Finchem, that spineless little twit that’s secretly your house dog, loves you too much and will do anything to get you back.

Heck, I didn’t think much of you in the first place because you never said Hi to me or at least, “Sorry, Ernie, for smacking your butt around the course all these years while I’m just screwing around and not even being serious with my game”…but now, you can just eat ostrich crap, as they say here in South Africa.

Oi, you like smacking around your ex-sponsors like you do your ex-galfriends, eh? Tell ye what, you show your butt here in Ireland, we gonna show you how to be a man. Look at me hero, Darren Clarke…lost his wife, still played through his grief and kick the heck out of ye americans at K Club in the Ryder Cup. Quit Whining and just face the music, mate. You screwed up by screwing around, so what? Now you’re not just a screw up, you’re also a sissy. A wuss. A poof, as we like to call it ‘ere at this side of the pond. Ah, bollocks, I’d rather down a pint of beer than talk about you, poof.

Rory M.

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Tiger,

Thanks for showing us how a tiger can become a chicken. Why don’t you just come out and let people ask you questions instead of yabbering on like a blardy robot, mate? Nobody’s gonna give a darn about my tournament now, you know, the one that I won last year? Everyone’s interested in your little conference.

You need to take control, eh! We waited for 3 months and all we got is this hollywood scripted crap? It’s nonsense mate! Answer this questions only: Are you coming back soon and when? Also, some anonymous fellas on tour are asking some strange questions like, why are all the women you bang, white? Why don’t you dig black gals? Are you racialist?

And stop asking everyone to leave you or your family alone! You earn 90 million BUCKS A YEAR…that’s enough to buy the entire island of Tasmania. You should have no right to ask people to leave you alone, because with that much money, you are public property. You’re dog food for the press, mate. Get used to it!

Sincerely,

Geoff Ogilvy

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Dear Tiger,

I don’t care about your private life. I just want to know two things:

1) What’s your pick up line to get those hotties, especially that porn star chic?

2) Why are all the women you bang, white? Why don’t you dig black girls? Are you racialist?

Regards,

Sergio

P/s – Let’s hit the clubs for some white chicks when you get back, eh, mate?